Due to the clement weather of late, and because for a woman in my condition, walks are considered a healthy thing to do, we have been doing a lot of strolling of late. A lot. The other day, my walk to work and back included, I hit the 9km mark. I also nearly fell asleep on the couch during Das Perfekte Dinner (I didn’t only because this week was ‘Wer ist der Profi?’ and I couldn’t bear to miss any) but my blood was well and truly circulated by the day’s end.
Getting out and about in our hood has the direct, pleasing result of discovering some wonderful little pockets of parks and cafes and restaurants (and playgrounds, they will soon be of utmost importance. We have counted around four within short walking distance from us, thank you German city planning.). Apparently within ten minutes of our front door there is a tiny fresh fish shop that also sells books and eggs, and a creperie that makes Nutella crepes for 2.50 a pop. Who knew? We didn’t. But we’ve been back since.
Taking a right when we’d usually take a left, as routine and familiarity dictates, has also revealed a whole host of anothers that not only make daily life more interesting, but also somewhat more convenient; another close, ‘higher tier’ supermarket (because there is a supermarket hierarchy in this country), another rather deluxe looking döner imbiss, another French place, another Italian place, another bakery, another local produce market, another florist, another book antiquariat and another wine shop. On market day a restaurant just across the way, buys up some fresh ingredients and does extremely reasonable lunch specials using the fresh produce.
And just a little further on, before we hit water, there are the Alter Botanischer Garten – as opposed to the Neuer Botanischer Garten, which are fifteen minutes from us in the other direction – which are quite like what I would imagine the Secret Garden to be. Small, old, hidden, wonderfully lush. And, it just so happens, home to the Schleswig-Holstein Literature House.
This new neighbourhood is a little different to the previous three I have found myself in in Germany, because this one is for a while. There isn’t a time limit on this one, neither an external one imposed by SG’s work, nor an internal one imposed by my own itchy footedness. We have chosen to come here, chosen this place to start raising a child in. It is the first time in a long time I am somewhere to stay and I know that. And, as I am realising with each passing day, I’m extremely happy about that.